


The Importance of Weather Reports

by language_escapes



Category: Elementary (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 02:19:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1411339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/language_escapes/pseuds/language_escapes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Of course," Joan sighs as it begins to downpour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Importance of Weather Reports

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "Joan, Marcus Bell, Under the Rain". Originally posted on my tumblr.

“Of course,” Joan sighs as it begins to downpour. She got Marcus’s call at five in the morning and ran out of the Brownstone for his SOS without glancing at the weather report. Now she’s at a crime scene wearing all white, and it’s raining.

Next to her, Marcus laughs. “Too busy working to look at a weather report?”

She gives him her best glare, the one that used to silence surgery residents. It works just as well on detectives, she’s amused to discover, as Marcus stops laughing and stares at her solemnly. “Excuse me, who called me at five in the morning, asking me to his crime scene?”

He puts his hands up, spreading his fingers. “Hey, I’m just saying, they’ve been predicting rain for four days now.”

“They always predict rain,” she grumps, crouching down so she can get a better look at the door. The dead body inside isn’t going anywhere, but she wants to get a good idea of the evidence outside before it all washes away. She studies the way the door is broken and shattered, and then turns to look at the sidewalk. She digs into her pocket, pulling out a magnifying glass that she’s taken to keeping with her, just in case. There are scuff marks along the pavement, and the rocks and debris are scattered along a particular line. She wipes her suddenly soppy hair out of her eyes, wishing she’d thought to grab a hair tie when she rushed out the door, and carefully touches the odd patches of brown amongst the usual black dirt, sniffing the residue on her fingers.

A moment later, the rain stops.

Joan frowns and glances up. Marcus is standing next to her, holding an umbrella above her and smiling. “Couldn’t have you getting wet,” he says, his eyes sparkling.

“A little late,” she says, laughing and standing. “Get under here, we can share.”

He huddles close, his elbows brushing hers as he holds the umbrella and she details exactly how their John Doe and Mystery Killer arrived, at least one of them having come from the direction of the construction site nine blocks away, and began their fight outside, breaking down the door in their struggle until John Doe was knifed by the Mystery Killer.

Marcus shakes his head. “Gotta hand it to you, Joan. You do good work. Now let’s get inside. I got a uniform running to get coffee for you. Least I could do for dragging you out in the rain at five am.”

Joan smiles, the chill of the rain disappearing in her glow of pleasure.


End file.
